


Praying

by Katanachan



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Blasphemy, God Complex, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Song fic, South Park: The Fractured But Whole, implied Bunny, super heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 18:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katanachan/pseuds/Katanachan
Summary: Sometimes you fail.So hit your knees and pray.





	Praying

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed to get this out. It's not beta'd or anything.
> 
> Inspired by Kesha’s - Prayin'

A mind is a terrible place. It can trap you for hours on end in a loop of falsehoods and pain. A mind can be full of disillusions that grip you tighter than death itself.

The saying is you are your own enemy.  No one can be as rough on you as yourself and no one can hold you as accountable for your actions as your own tormented psyche.  When you fail. When you lie. When you can’t manage to save that person you’ve reached for at the last minute.

Your mind can rewind time. Play that moment over and over again. _Torment you_.

The details become so clear; the sounds and the smells, so real that you can almost reach out and touch the memory. But that’s all it is. A memory. And no matter what you do sometimes the only thing you can do is forgive yourself for failing.

Forgiveness isn’t always easy.

It had been raining. He could almost hear the sound of it hitting the ground. The wetness of the water as it pooled in his hair, his hood down. He had been dressed in that stupid Super Hero costume.

What had made him think **_he of anyone could be a hero,_ ** he wasn’t sure. Playing. Pretend.  Acting like a decent human being doesn’t **make you one.** But that’s what he was doing that night. Pretending to be a hero like he had the god damned nerve to do so.

Rain.  The sound of it was almost deafening. His face was wet as he remembered the way he dropped to his knees. The sound of the concrete against his clothed skin, hitting the puddle with a loud splash.

The sound of his choked _sobs_ as he let the night play over in his mind. Again. And. Again.

There are some things only god can forgive.

But there was no god here tonight.

At least he didn’t remember there being a divine presence.

Rain.

Dripping and soaking his costume, the freezing feeling that tried to overthrow the already painful numbness running in his veins.  A river of his own making pouring over his cheeks and joining with it’s brethren on the ground. Fists clenched as he punched the ground.

Once.

Twice. 

He swore that night he broke his knuckles, but he couldn’t feel the pain the way a normal person could. He had dealt with so much worse in his life. He’d been to Hell and back, with everything in-between.

But this pain, it was so much _worse_.

The blood on his hands dripped down and mixed with the pouring rain almost washing away his sins with it. But he knew what he had done.  What he had _failed_ to do.

“God.” He remembered saying loudly to the sky.  His voice was thick and full of emotions he couldn’t even begin to explain. “GOD WHY!?” His head shot up as dark blue eyes dared the Heavens to actually fucking answer him.

“All I’ve done is what you want.” A clenched fist shot up and turned into a middle finger as he continued. “BUT THIS IS WHAT YOU GIVE ME!?”

A soul crushing wail of a scream left his throat. He remembered that he couldn’t even recognize the sound as himself. As _human._

But Kenny McCormick wasn’t human.

He was a God Damned **monster**. 

Roaring again he threw his gloves off one at a time before he sat back on his haunches.

He remembered that awful feeling of guilt and sorrow pulling at his chest, clenching his insides like a vice grip as he put his hands together and bowed his head.

Softly he pulled his hands together in a praying motion, chest heaving as tears fell down his face harder now. Sobs rocked his body as he had grit his teeth.

“Please,” He heard his voice begging all over again, so quiet and small like the child he was inside. “Please don’t take _him from me_. **Anyone**. _Anyone but him God_.”

His voice was swallowed up by the ever present storm that raged above. Dark storm clouds mocking him.  This pain. This **hurt**.

“PLEASE!”

A crash of thunder had taken his plea and blasted it in to the void.

Silence. The sound of rain and silence.

No answer. No comfort. Just a little boy left with himself and his guilt on a roof playing hero in a world where he was the real villain.

Memory can be a terrible and powerful force. It can lock you inside and never let you go. Memory can distort the truth.

The mind can play tricks with your memory.

Kenny remembers distinctly the moment he heard his answer.

A soft voice somehow cutting through the storm inside and the storm physically battling against him.

“Kenny?” 

He recalls how fast he jerked himself up, how fast he turned, how he scraped his knee and felt the sting. Felt alive again with that voice. 

That first breath of air.

That first gasp after he saw the shorter boy standing in front of him holding his bleeding arm.

Something snapped.  It snapped and it broke and it would never be the same again.

God had forgiven him.

He had heard him.

He had listened for the first time in his entire life.

Tears stained his cheeks as he remembered that feeling. That overwhelming relief.  It felt like he could fly in that moment, that he was lighter than air.

His voice croaked, “You.. you fell.”

But the boy in front of him walked closer. He remembered that touch, the soft feel of his fingers against Kenny’s cheeks.

“I.. I wasn’t able to hold you..”

Thunder crashed again and Kenny saw God in light blue eyes.

  
“I’m okay. _Kenny_ , I’m okay.”


End file.
